Death's Last Days With the Dying

Time, Tommy

Time, Tommy thought he'd always have. Plentiful like drops of November rain. Countless like twinkling stars.

When he crossed paths with Martha in their office's corridor that sunny morning, all that came out of his mouth was a quick “Hello”.

No spilling from his river of curiosity lingering in his mind for so long. No wave from his ocean of romantic poetry flowing in his mind whenever he imagined Martha's diamond eyes and carnation lips. No drop of lust in sight. No ripple of love from his world of secrecy.